


Baggage Claims

by ANobleCompanion



Series: Baggage Claims [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Borrowing Clothes, Conventions, Flirting, Fluff, Lost Luggage, M/M, airport mixup, meeting again as adults, old crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:32:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1754191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANobleCompanion/pseuds/ANobleCompanion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas was sure the bag he grabbed was his.  But the contents inside, most decidedly were not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baggage Claims

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xaandria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaandria/gifts).



> Happy Birthday to Xaandria (Cliffnotesofanerd)! This is based roughly on a prompt idea she had a few weeks ago. I ran with it and hope she likes it! Original Post: http://cliffnotesofanerd.tumblr.com/post/87096265088/au-where-cas-and-dean-have-the-same-suitcase-and

Cas looked down at the open duffel in front of him in confusion.  It was his.  It had to be his.  The damn thing had his high school logo, _Hunter High_ , printed on the side with the avenging angel mascot beneath it.  The thing had been a giveaway to the students for his graduating class.  He’d used it through college to lug his laundry back and forth between school and home on long weekends and kept it after specifically because it was so easily recognizable.  It even had his graduation year.  

But as he stood in the hotel room, there was no denying the _contents_ of the bag where most certainly not his.  Up to and including a rather large object that Cas was wary to touch, having no idea who it’s owner was.  

At least the clothes looked to be about the right size, if perhaps a little big.  He’d already called the airline.  They had very unhelpfully informed him that he had apparently picked up someone else’s bag on the conveyor belt.  Unfortunately, they wouldn’t be able to do anything until whomever had his bag also contacted them.  Even then, it was unlikely to get resolved before Sunday when he had to head home anyway.  

Cas closed his eyes and rubbed his temple, willing his headache to go away.  This was supposed to be an enjoyable trip.  He’d been looking forward to it for _months_ , ever since Anna had pointed out that his favorite voice actor, Jensen Ackles, would be at this convention.  The man was notoriously camera shy.  It was well known that he worked under a pseudonym, but no one knew his real name.  He’d never been to a convention before and Cas had never even managed to find so much as a picture of the guy anywhere.  

Coming to the convention to meet him had been a no brainer, really, despite his busy schedule.  He was determined to meet the man and find some way to beg for a chance to work with him.  He’d spent a week picking out the perfect outfit, trying to present himself as a professional in the business, rather than just another fan.  Now of course, that wasn’t going to be happening.  And he didn’t have time, money, or knowledge enough of the area around him to go shopping for more clothes.  The cost of the plane ticket had almost maxed out his card.  

It wasn’t as though, as a small, independent animator, he was rolling in cash.  

Cas did fairly well for himself.  He contracted out whenever he could, and had managed to land a couple jobs for advertising firms; mostly local, though he’d done one national spot on a commercial for a well known salsa brand.  The art and storyboard weren’t examples of his best work.  The general premise had been boring and pedantic, but it was what the client had wanted, and it had brought him enough additional work that he was finally able to start his own project.  

His baby had been swirling away in his mind for almost ten years.  It was a feature length film and more abstract than what was commonly seen in the field.  Cas didn’t want to simply jump on the trends already out there, he wanted to create something _new_. Anna had always teased him about being a rebel.  Maybe he was, but he was a rebel without a cast.  

He sighed again.  There wasn’t anything he could do about it now.  It was after ten on a Friday.  The convention started bright and early.  Fortunately, it was taking place in the same hotel he was staying at, so he wouldn’t have to worry about finding it on time in the morning.  

Cas wondered what on earth he was going to wear tomorrow.  It felt strange to think of using a stranger’s clothing without permission, but it was looking more and more like he didn’t have a choice.  He wrapped a kleenex around the elongated object nestled on top of the bag and took it out first.  Seriously - who packed something like that for a trip?  TSA must have had a field day with their screening.

Carefully, and respectfully as he could, Cas began to pull out the other items from the bag in hopes of finding something serviceable for the next day.  Most of the clothes had a casual, comfortable, well-worn look to them.  They weren’t shabby by any means; just soft, as though they’d been washed many times.  The selection was simple.  There was a pair of jeans, a henley, two button down shirts - one a solid dark red, the other a brown and green plaid - and a Led Zeppelin shirt.  He was grateful there was a belt in the bag too, because he wasn’t sure the jeans would stay up on his hips. Cas thought if he wore the Zeppelin shirt with the jeans and the blazer he was currently wearing, he might be ok.  The button downs were clearly too broad in the shoulders and would just look ridiculous on him.  

Beneath the clothes and in the pockets of the duffel were a few other items as well.  At first, Cas tried to avoid looking at the more personal things. They weren’t his, and he really didn’t feel as though he had a right.  But he had nothing to do, and his curiosity quickly got the better of him.  

There was a very high chance that whomever the bag belonged to was in Cas’s graduating class in high school - unless he’d picked it up second-hand somewhere.  Cas’s school had been small.  Perhaps he knew the person.  Not that he was still in touch with anyone from his old school.  

The first thing he pulled out were two old, battered paperbacks.  One was _Bird Cage_ by Kurt Vonnegut, the other a compilation of Greek myths.  Cas ran his hand over the cover of the myths.  He recognized it as the same edition as one they’d had to read in English Lit almost twenty years ago.  He flipped it open, hoping to find a name on the inside flap, only to be disappointed.  

The next item he found was a small notepad, spiral bound along the top edge.  It was filled with drawings.  Some were little more than doodles, others were full blown pieces of art.  The drawings ranged from funny and thoughtful to downright disturbing.  One in particular was a close up of a pair of eyes.  The face around the eyes was done in black and white pencil, but the irises of the eyes were a bright, piercing yellow.  The only words on the page were, “My nightmare.”  

Despite his admiration for the artwork, Cas quickly set the notepad aside.  Looking through its pages felt almost intimate - as though he was reading someone’s diary and uncovering their innermost thoughts.  There was one more object at the bottom of the bag.  It was a small photograph, placed into a flat, clear acrylic frame with a magnet on the back.  The kind you might put on a refrigerator.  Cas supposed if this stranger was traveling with the picture, he’d want it in something sturdier than a standard glass frame.  

He looked closely at the woman.  She looked vaguely familiar, but Cas wasn’t sure if that was just wishful thinking on his part or not.  He flipped it over to find the photo labeled, “Mom.”  

Cas looked at the objects and clothing now spread out on his bed.  He was no closer to finding out who this stranger was.  Leaving out the jeans and the t-shirt, Cas slowly and carefully replaced all the items back in the bag.  Including the more personal item he’d pulled out first.  He saved the notebook for last.  

Cas picked it up with every intention of putting it back into the bag, but something stopped him.  Curiosity, fascination with the quality of work, or something else,  he wasn’t sure, but instead of putting it away, Cas found himself sinking down onto the bed and flipping through the pages.  

By the time he’d gotten to the last page, he’d decided he might not know the bag owner’s identity, but he was starting to get to know the bag owner.  And he was very interested in learning more.  The man was funny, with an amazing wit that showed through clearly in some of his lighter, more cartoonish pieces.  But he also had patience and love for those in his life.  The faces that were the most detailed and lovingly portrayed were also the faces that appeared the most often. It was like looking at the man’s soul.  

Glancing up, Cas was shocked to see it was after midnight.  He’d been looking through the notebook for the better part of two hours.  Knowing he would have to get up early tomorrow if he wanted breakfast before the convention started, Cas set the drawings aside, stripped down to his boxers and crawled under the covers, his mind still filled with the personality he’d spent the evening getting to know.  If he was honest with himself, he thought he might have a small crush on the mysterious artist.  

* * *

Cas awoke the next morning feeling as though he’d spent his dreams chasing after something he’d never been able to actually see.  It left him frustrated and out of sorts.  Especially when he remembered he didn’t have any of his own toiletries for the shower.  Fortunately, he had been able to get what he needed from the concierge the night before so he was at least clean, if still a little scruffy.    

Looking in the mirror, eyes still blurry, Cas ran a hand through his hair, trying to decide if he wanted to attempt to tame the mess now or get his morning coffee first.  

Coffee.  Definitely coffee.

He grabbed the room key and his wallet off his desk and shoved them into the back pocket of the jeans before heading out towards the elevators.  He was staying on the tenth floor and the elevator was blessedly empty when he stepped on.  He could only hope it would stay that way for the duration of the trip down.  He wasn’t typically the most coherent of people before his first shot of caffeine.  

His luck didn’t hold out.  The elevator stopped again at the fifth floor.  Cas shuffled into the corner, hoping to avoid eye contact with the new passenger, thereby preventing what would inevitably be awkward conversation.  

A single man stepped through the doors and leaned forward to press the button for the lobby.  They made it down two more floors before the stranger spoke.  

“Cas? Castiel Novak?”

Cas’s head shot up in surprise.  His gaze met a pair of bright green eyes staring at him a little uncertainly.  

“Dean?” Cas said, disbelief clear in his voice.  

Holy hell, what were the odds of his high school crush stepping into the same elevator as him?  And on top of that, recognizing him?  He’d been certain throughout high school that Dean didn’t even know he existed.  

Dean’s face split into a wide grin, “Hey, man! It’s great to see you!  It’s been, what, 18 years?”

Castiel nodded, “Since graduation.  How have you been? How’s your little brother?”

“Sammy? Ha. Not so little.  Dude’s a Sasquatch now. You remember Sammy?”

Cas remembered quite a bit about Dean Winchester.  He’d been one of those popular kids who seemed to be in the middle of everything going on, from school plays to baseball.  Cas had gone to every game and every play, but he’d just been a member of the crowd.  Nothing about him stood out.  

“Of course, Dean.”  

“He’s good.  All grown up.  Went to Stanford Law.  Has the degree now, and a wife, Jess.  She’s a pistol.”  

Cas smiled.  “And what about you?  How have you been?”

“Doin’ pretty well, dabbling in a bit of this and that. In town for this convention thing.  Gotta say, I’m a little nervous about it.”  

Cas perked up.  “You’re here for the convention?”

“Yep.  First one. Not really sure what I’m doing. What about you?”

“I’m here for the convention too.  It’s not my first, but I remember my first.  I was nervous as hell too.  What if I messed up in front of one of the talent?  Every con that I’ve been to so far though has been great.  And the actors and writers that show up are usually really approachable.”  

Dean looked at Cas a little funny, but just then, the elevator dinged, signalling their arrival at the lobby.

Cas looked at Dean again.  “I’m headed over to the cafe to find coffee.  Would you like to join?”

Dean smiled, “Sure.  Never gonna turn down a cup of coffee.”  

The two walked in a companionable silence side by side until they reached the cafe.  It seemed as though half the hotel had had the same idea and the line was longer than Cas had hoped.  The plus side of it was the chance to pass idle chatter with Dean, catching up on various people they’d both known, even if they hadn’t run in the same circles.  

It wasn’t until they had ordered, found a seat and Cas had finished half his cup before he really _looked_ at Dean.  

“You know,” Cas said, amusement lacing his voice, “That looks an awful lot like a top I own.”  

Dean looked down and actually blushed.  “Yeah.  It’s not mine, actually.  There was a mix-up at the airport…”

Cas raised his eyebrow pointedly and pulled back the lapel of his blazer.  

“Holy shit _,_ _you’re_ the one who’s bag I have!” Dean said, laughing.  

“Apparently so,” Cas said, smiling. “What are the odds we’d both still be using that same bag from graduation, twenty years down the line, only to end up in the same hotel?”  

“Higher than I want to figure out,” Dean said.  “Glad to know where it went though.  That makes getting it back easier.  Suddenly, his face turned bright red.  “I’m guessing if you had to borrow clothes, you...looked through it then?”

Cas’s grin turned a little wicked.  “Indeed.  I’m politely ignoring the fact that you packed a sex toy for this trip - for now.  I might ask you about that again later though,” he said.  

Dean coughed, and if possible, turned a little redder, but he was still smiling when he responded, “Fair enough. Especially if it means there will be a later.”

“So, is there anyone here in particular that you’ve come to see?” Cas asked, his heart skipping a little at Dean’s implication of _later_.  

“Not really,” Dean said, shaking his head.  “I guess you could say I’m here as part of the experience package.  I’m not sure why I even agreed to come.  This really isn’t my thing.  My co-worker, Charlie, has been trying to get me to one of these for years. She’s off with her girlfriend, Dorothy of course, leaving me to fend for myself.”  

Cas smiled.  “Well, at least you managed to find a friendly face early on.”

Dean nodded, relief evident in his body language.  “What about you?”

Cas squirmed.  “Well, you know how I said not to be nervous?”

Dean nodded again.

“I’m a bit of a hypocrite this time around.  I’m here for a very specific person.  I’m terrified of how to approach them.  Usually at these kinds of things, you just go for the opportunity to meet someone you admire, maybe get a picture or get them to sign something and move on.”

“That’s not what you’re here for then?” Dean asked.

“Not this time.  I don’t know if you remember from high school, but all my electives were art.”

“Yeah,  we took fine drawing together,” Dean said. “But I think I recall you were especially good at the computer graphics stuff.  I remember a little short you did for the art fair one year.  That was really good, man.  Especially on the crappy software from back then.”  

Cas blinked in surprise, a bit taken back at the fact that Dean remembered that detail about him or even that they’d shared a class. He had a fleeting thought that maybe his high school crush hadn’t been so one sided after all.  He dismissed the notion fairly quickly.  Dean had always been nice to everyone.  He probably still remembered the art teacher’s middle name.

“Yeah, well, it’s what I do for a living now.  I’m an animator, or well, I’m trying to be.  I’ve had a couple good commercial jobs, but I’ve never been able to produce one of my own stories.  I’ve finally saved up enough to complete an independent project I’ve been tinkering with off and on for the past ten years or so.”

Dean’s face lit up, with something Cas couldn’t quite identify, but it looked almost like a mixture of pride and awe.  “Wow, man, that’s great! Congratulations!”

“Thanks, but now that I have the script and the storyboard taken care of, I need a cast.  It’s full length, but there are actually only two characters in the whole thing.  I can play one role, but I need someone else to play my alter ego, so to speak.”  

Dean pursed his lips and looked thoughtful, “That makes sense.  I take it then there’s someone here that you have in mind?”

“Yeah.  I’m hoping to ask him today if I get a chance during the autograph sessions.  I first heard his voice in a Batman animation.  He played the part of Red Hood.  Since then, I’ve sort of followed his work.  He’s incredibly diverse in the roles he takes and his range in emotion and pitch are exactly what I’m looking for.  

Dean had frozen a little on the initial description, and for some reason, blushed.  By the time Cas had finished, he was grinning.  “I think you should go for it.  I know if I was this Jensen guy, I’d jump at the chance to work on an independent project like what you’re talking about.”

Cas smiled back, “You think?  I hope you’re right. Oh hey, while I’m thinking about it, take one of my cards - it’s got my phone number on it.  We should meet up again later today and hang out.  Especially if your friends keep bailing on you.”

“Don’t you need it for Jensen?” Dean asked hesitantly, hand already reaching for the card, clearly wanting to take it.

“Not a big deal.  I had a new batch printed up for the weekend.  Even if Jensen says no, I figured they would be good to have on hand in case I run in to potential clients.  They’re all up in my room right now.”

Dean’s smile was wide and bright.  “Ok, then.  Hey, do you think we can go ahead and exchange bags?  I need to meet up with Charlie in about thirty minutes and I’d like to change.  No offense, but your shirt’s a bit snug on me.”

Cas grinned.  “Sure, no problem.”

Dean followed Cas to the elevators.  They made a quick stop at Dean’s room and Cas made a mental not of the number, before heading up to his.  Cas laughed a little nervously after they’d exchanged bags.  “So I guess you want your pants and shirt back, huh?”

Dean grinned as he responded, “For now at least.  Though I gotta say, Cas, I like the way you look in them.”

Cas felt himself blush a little.  Was Dean actually flirting with him?  God he hoped so.  He’d long gotten past his high school infatuation, but having Dean here in front of him as an adult was quite a different experience altogether.  The boy had been cute and funny.  The man Cas had gotten to know over the last hour was witty, smart, and kind - not to mention well beyond the normal levels of attractive.  

Castiel felt a flare of hope that he’d be going home with more than just Jensen’s number that day.  

“The feeling’s mutual, Dean.  And personally, I think the tighter shirt look works on you.” He winked before grabbing his bag to change in the bathroom, giving Dean the privacy of the bedroom.

After they’d both changed, there was an awkward moment at the door.  Cas wanted to ask for Dean’s number, but for some reason, couldn’t get the words out.  Despite the ease in their earlier conversation, and even with the light flirting, Cas suddenly felt he was back in high school, trying to find the way to talk to the boy that was far too cool for him.  

“Well, Cas.  I’m sure I’ll see you around the convention today.  I’ll call you later,” Dean patted his back pocket where he’d put Cas’s card after Cas had given him his jeans back. “If you’re still interested after the first few panels, we can do lunch or something.”  

Cas smiled, happy.  “I can promise you, I’ll still be interested.”

Dean shifted a little uncomfortably and gave him a sort of half smile in return.  “Well, you never know.  You might get a better offer later.”  

Cas shook his head and laughed, “I doubt it.  I’ll see you at lunch, Dean.  Just don’t forget to call.”

Dean smiled fully then.  “I won’t.  I’d better go though, I’m running late, and I’m sure Charlie’s looking for me.”

“I’ll see you around, Dean.”

After Dean left, Cas looked down at his watch and realized he was running a little late too.  The first panel started in less than fifteen minutes.  Thank god he’d sprung for preferred seating over general, or he’d be stuck in standing room only.  This was Jensen’s panel and there was no way he was going to miss it.  

* * *

Cas found his seat just as the panel was starting.  This particular session was specifically geared to the voice cast of Jensen’s latest project, a remake of _Return to Oz_.  The cast had also featured several of Cas’s favorite voice talents aside from Jensen, including Charlie Bradbury and Gilda Fae, and he was eager for the discussion overall.  

Cas had taken a sip from a fresh cup of coffee when Gabriel Shurley, the MC for the event, announced, “With no further ado, I introduce to you, the cast of _Return to Oz_.” Gabriel called out each of the actors names as they came on to the stage. Cas immediately recognize Charlie Bradbury.  She was well known on social media as both a gamer and an activist.  She also ran the MMORPG, _Moondoor_.  Gilda, he recognized, but didn’t know as much about.  She, like Jensen, prefered to stay out of the spotlight.  Gilda was a stage name, but unlike Jensen, she publicly acknowledged her real identity.  Cas had been amused when the press release had announced that Dorothy Gale in the take-off of _The Wizard of Oz,_ would be played by an actress whose real name was none other than Dorothy Gale.  

The combination of names pinged something in the back of Cas’s mind just as Gabriel was introducing the elusive Jensen to the crowd.  Even before he turned to the audience, Cas suddenly _knew_.  Jensen Ackles, the man he hoped would play the voice for the role that could help Cas make a name for himself in the world of animation, was none other than Dean Winchester.  

How had he not known?  How had he not recognized the voice immediately?  Wasn’t that what was was _here_ for?  Cas felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him.  Had Dean been laughing at him?  

A flash of memory from this morning hit him, “ _I know if I was this Jensen guy, I’d jump at the chance to work on an independent project like what you’re talking about._ ”  He’d been going on so much about Jensen that morning, maybe Dean just hadn’t known how to tell him.  Cas grinned.  He was pretty sure he had his answer.  

 


End file.
